Sunday, October 24, 2010

It's been a while. I've much to share,'s something different.

Washing dishes, making dinner, doing my homework, helping her with her homework, doing laundry, getting the bath ready, cleaning the kitchen, feeding the dogs... When do we have time to take a second and press a pause button somewhere? Has anyone invented that yet? Someone's dropped the ball on that one...

And then...the high-pitched little voice that brings anyone back to Earth, because...well, you can't effectively clean up spilled macaroni and cheese from all the way up there in La La Land...

"It's very important, Mommy...

'Kittethn'... How do you spell 'kittethn'?"

The tiny lisp (that isn't quite a lisp) is uniquely Britton's; it lilts lyrically throughout her sentences as if it almost doesn't exist, and yet its presence has always somewhat concerned me, a mother with a keen ear for linguistic accuracy and appreciation for all things grammatical, syntactical, etc... I always was an English geek, and proud of it. My daughter, only three years of age, already uses her adverbs in their proper tense, correcting the boys at school when they're being too "loud"... Oh no, they're definitely "speaking too loudly." I love it. Never too early. If she learns it this way the first time around and manages to retain these principles throughout her years of public education without picking up too many bad habits, we'll be all set.

About that lisp? It only makes its appearance, so to speak, in a few "s" words here and there, and sometimes in the nasal "n" beginnings and endings when that sound is soft; it's like she's trying harder than is necessary to force out the air needed to make that sound. So what does a Mommy do? Well, off we go to the pediatrician, of course. No, no, not right away, of course. Growing kids will go through these things, and it's normal. (Not that I'm not prone to overreacting a tad; I *was* the first to toss everything in the car and rush off to the ER the first time she rolled off the bed as an infant, only to be told by a very sweet and serene nurse that ALL babies roll off the bed at some's kind of what they do.) However, now that this nose issue has obviously affected her speech to a noticeable degree, it seemed the appropriate time to investigate further.

After a quick glance up her tiny nostrils and down her little throat, we're given a prescription for an inhaled steroid (Veramyst) and a liquid allergy medicine to clear up her congestion (which very well could be the reason she overcompensates with the "n" sounds). We've yet to see what the long-term use of these will do for her, but I'm optimistic, and Britton is just happy that the allergy medicine tastes of cherries. We'll see how we go. In the meantime, life goes on as chaotically and as normally and as beautifully as ever. As she approached me in the dining room the other night with a sheet of notebook paper in her hands, pride beaming in her face like sunshine was made for her, I had to smile again at what she had called so very important: scrawled in her favorite purple crayon were the carefully crafted letters K-I-T-T-E-N, perfectly printed across the top.

That's my girl.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Silly stomach...doth ye protest?

Today, we liquid fast.

(WE being myself, naturally, and my lovely besty DreamsxandxBones)...

This woman saves me in so many ways. You know it, don't ya, love? ;)

I know that no matter how trying this day becomes as it wears on, no matter what personal painful stressful bullshit finds its way into my headspace, she will not allow me to fall.


Anyone else feel like being 100% guaranteed to be tinier tomorrow with us? ;)

Please, feel free to join in. I cannot wait to feel this emptiness overtake me...

(when I am thin again...when I am back to my lovely 120s, and beyond, I shall post again some pictures of myself. NOT until then.)

Better get there fast, huh?

If this were possible for ordinary people, everyone would be doing it. But our determination and sense of higher purpose in ourselves exceeds the ordinary in so many ways. Our beautiful sacrifice and perseverance will be written like the most delicate cursive script across the smooth, clean planes of our lovely bones: We are pure.

As the inside of my arm insists...

Stay Lovely.

Monday, September 27, 2010

It's official. I'm officially fat again.

The scale isn't to be trusted. This is true in most of my experience, and yet I still stand on the thing daily, allowing it to determine my mood for the day, the week...

It said 137 this morning.


I don't know...



Less than four months ago I was at 126. The lowest I'd ever gotten. And now?

I am so utterly disgusted with myself. I managed to restrict properly for about two and a half days. No bingeing. This morning, my car wouldn't start. I realized I'd lost my debit card and had to cancel the thing. I've got no money and no vehicle and I've run out of one of my meds. I'm missing class because I can't drive to school and I really, truly can NOT afford to miss class.

So what do I do?

Eat, of course. Why? It's a distraction, it's pleasantly painful, and it helps me feed the self-destructive side of P.D. in the worst way possible.

I see what I see in the mirror and despise every curve, every jiggling bit of fat everywhere...and I try so earnestly to remember how it felt to be thin. To be GETTING thin. How did it feel to have that control, that ability to look at food and shun it entirely? Wasn't that better than this? Or was it worse, perhaps? Maybe that's the reason I've reverted to eating constantly; my mind is so tired of trying so hard at all of this.

I'm not ready to give up the fight, and yet I know that it would be the best thing for me, to seek out recovery while I'm feeling this way... My "fear" of food has vanished entirely, and here I am TRYING to find that again. I want my obsession back. I want to be thin.

Too bad there's something in there, somewhere, that would rather hurt me by piling on the pounds...Too bad there's something in my mind that knows how unhealthy and unsustainable this lifestyle is... Fucking practical responsibility bullshit.

Healthy? Good. Sure.

Thin? Beautiful? In control?

Please. Please. Please.

I need it more than anything now.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

In addition...Something else I just don't understand...

If I know it makes me so damn miserable...

Why can't I stop



into my mouth?


I make myself sick. Yes, in more ways than one.

I've been purging every day now for who knows how long, and it has to stop.

Not only is it fucking horrible for me, for all of the reasons I don't have to list because we ALL KNOW them, but because it's ALSO helping to make me fat.

How fat, you ask?

Remember Christmas?

Yes. Christmas with all of its fatty, sugary, salty, carbalicious, sauce-laden-and-gravy-covered-and-heaped-with-five-different-kinds-of-cheeses shit? Cookies and cakes and brownies and fuck me, I'm triggering even to mySELF, I apologize...and I digress. Fuck.

I haven't seen this number since Christmas break.

And now it's here. In SEPTEMBER, ya'll.


Pullin' out the ol' Texan vernacular on ya.


Holy mother of Jesus in a deflated old tire swing, what the hell am I DOING?! Essentially...Eating enough to feed a small family and only purging about half of it. Maybe only a quarter of it.

Shameful, all of it. The bingeing, the foods I choose to eat in the first place (I'm gluten and lactose intolerant, mind you, so of COURSE, the first thing I go for when I lose control [which is more often than not, nowadays] is the type of food I'm not normally allowed to have anyway...namely bread items and cheeses and yogurts and cookies and shit like that).

Anyway. I have to make this shortish. I have things to do here at home before I get to go to G's house for the rest of me weekend. Yes. I've finally decided that, since I'm private and there are only 21 of you following me now...ha...down from 183 or so?...I can be much more openish about certain aspects of my personal relationship, as iffy as that may be in my actual, real, daily-waking-walking-hasrealrepercussions-life. ;)

My ex-Children's Lit. professor. You 'member him. Of course you do. If not, you can go back and find a few of the posts in which I very carefully mentioned him... He's Australian and he's 42 and he's wonderful...He's mine. He wasn't mine for a while. He couldn't be mine while I was his student, of course. That's against University policy, and that would have been far too risky. I'm not out to get him fired or anything like that...He loves his profession, and he's damn good at it. So we waited...and when that semester was over, he left to Australia for two entire months. GOD, that took forever. I missed him incessantly. We kept in contact via email and text messaging but JESUS, that's hard. Anyway, he's been back since the end of July and things are pretty much lovely...there are some kinks here and there, but they're not between US, per se. I'll have to explain that at some point in the near future. Suffice to say...I'm happier with him than I have ever been with anyone, and he feels the same. We honestly don't know how we could have ever said "love" before and meant it, not having met one another. It's amazing.

Aaaaannnd....that's enough of the sap. ;)

So anyway. Back to 136.fucking4. I don't...I mean...I was in total shock when I saw the number, of course, because I...I was 133 just a few days ago. 131 the day before that. So I know that a lot of it has to be food that's not laxied out. Naturally. But...still...A lot of it is actual gain. I won't pretend that it's not. I have to make a change.

My main point here? My problem?

Ladies...I've lost ...IT. I've lost my motivation. And I don't mean temporarily. It feels as if I've lost my obsession entirely. It feels as if... The disordered part of me is partial remission. Like ... Recovery is trying to creep its way in and tell me that it's time to let go of all of this, time to take a healthier approach to my life, my body, my eating habits... Problem is, the UNHEALTHY side of my mind, the part of me that is still NOT okay with how I feel and look (BIG PART OF ME) is rebelling with ALL she's got. She's not ready to go down, and so she's tearing back with all her strength, tooth and nail and kicking feet, screaming and bingeing and purging and laxing and taking prescription drugs (Topa, mainly, but diet pills, too) even though the side effects are horrible... My fucking hair is falling out!!!

I don't know what to do. I'm getting fat. I'm so tired of TRYING so hard NOT to be fat. It's all I do with myself. It's such an exhausting life. Trying so hard, 24-fucking-7...You all know this. You live the same life. But do I find my resolve again? Or...what a radical notion...what if I'm SUPPOSED to take this and run with it? Try to get..."better?" I don't know. I just know that I can't stand the way I look now. I can't stand the bingeing and purging.

I have to go.


Monday, September 13, 2010

What have I become, exactly?

I have put on so much weight... At least seven pounds in the past month. I can't believe what I see in the mirror... I am absolutely hideous...

I haven't been this depressed in years. Nothing feels okay...

I don't know what to do...but I can't be ... This.

How can I be numb AND so very sad simultaneously?

I just want to sleep forever.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

A supposedtabe quick update...

To all of you who have provided for me your email addresses: thank you. :) I'd like to leave this public for a few more days so as to allow anyone who may have missed my last post to give me their addresses... I don't want to leave anyone out who wants to continue following me. Then again, I assume that anyone who really holds that interest in earnest will find a way to contact me via the rest of you, should they find themselves unable to view my blog after I privatize it...

Anyway. Yeah. Shoot me an email ... or something... <3

I look forward to writing more once I'm legitimately private. In the meantime... umm...

I've been bingeing nearly daily. Today, I managed to stay under 2,000 and THAT felt like a feat. Sad, yes. I vaguely recall the under 500 days, the lovely dizziness of it all, the CONTROL... of myself, of my body... I need it back. I've stopped taking my Topamax (as per my psychiatrist, not of my own volition, necessarily) because the side effects FINALLY began to outweigh the benefits a few months ago. Hair loss? Really? Extensive hair loss. I'm 24. I can't go bald... even for a nearly guaranteed safety against binge attacks... It's not worth it.

But GOD, I miss it. The Topa was WORKING. And now I'm no longer on it. I still have some. I'm tempted daily to take it again. My thinning hair (yes, actively thinning, STILL) reminds me of the reason I should NOT pop those pills. It's ridiculous. I wear a hat most days, just because the way my hair parts and reveals my scalp in random places just kills me. Vanity, much? Maybe. But even a perfectly modest person, free from this vanity, would find themselves uncomfortable with a sudden change such as this, especially a young woman. I don't think I'm that unreasonable for being incredibly self-conscious about it...embarrassed, even. Ugh...Crossed fingers that it stops falling out and grows back, now that I've stopped the drug. Still... uncontrolled bingeing is ruling my life. There must be something else I can do, right?

I've gotta find my switch. The little switch in my mind that gets flipped, oh so rarely, and sends me into a lovely little spiral of weight loss, food aversion, and endless self-control. It's been far too long since I've felt that way, compelled to STARVE myself down to perfection. Helplessness and the propensity to give in, binge, purge, binge, purge... It's taken me over. I can't have this anymore. I've gained back up to 133 or so (that's a guesstimate, as I've avoided the scale as if it had measles or something for the past week). UNACCEPTABLE.

I must...refind...myself. My inspiration. My will. My strength.


This is all very... not so happy. I can't wait to tell you happy news.

It will come.


Stay gorgeous, my lovelies.


Monday, September 6, 2010

Please read...if you wanna be able to read me further. :) Thanks.

All right, lovelies...

It's going private. I don't know if there's an easier way to go about this, but from what I can tell, I'll have to invite everyone individually to view this.

(Is there an easier way and I'm just not seeing it?) Quite possible... I guess what I need in order to offer you continued viewership (if you'd like it... I love the fact that I have so many followers, but I don't know how many of you actually want an invite. I'll let you decide that part for yourself. I'd absolutely adore it if I managed to keep every single one of you...) is email addresses? That's what it seems like.

This may end up being a huge hassle, but I know it'll be worth the time and any trouble in the end. I'll be able to write more freely and maintain a bit more of my peace of mind as well.

So that you're not forced to post your email addresses here in a public forum, I'll include my email here. Feel free to send me your addy (along with your blogger ID) so that I can send you an invite in return. I hope this goes well...

All my hopin'-for-skinny love and good vibes to you, darlinghearts.
Stay lovely.


Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Don't do it...

I'm under 700 for the day.

Don't do it.

Don't eat anymore.

Don't binge.
Don't binge.
Don't binge.
Don't fail.

Just a reminder.


I have to regain myself.

It's all I *can* do right now. It's the only part of this insanely rapidspinning crazyland I can grab and hold and keep still.

I just...

Have to.


Fuck this up.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Maybe if I install a radio with a subwoofer in my bathroom...?

Fuck, I need to purge.

God, it's never worth it.
(the eating, I mean. the binge. it's not.)


Why do it?

The unanswerable.


I hate the lack of privacy here.
I don't, for a single moment, wish to imply at all that I am ungrateful for my current living conditions; my uncle allows me to stay here with my daughter free of rent, just so long as I keep my grades up and I help him tend the animals, keep the house clean, run his errands, etc... I have a damn sweet gig and I am well aware of it. So very grateful, so very happy to be where I am...Really.


My weakness has allowed me to binge (for the second time today) and, unlike the first time, I am now unable to rid myself of this horrid, strikingly painful amount of food now taking up residence within me. I really am surprised at how much it hurts, just the mere expansion of my abdomen. It's been ages since I've caused my stomach such distension. Fuck, that's not good.

I can't sneak away and hit the undo button this time. I can't be quiet enough. Wish there was some way to drown out my loudness while I got rid of it all...

Nope. Face up to it, P.D., you've gone and made this bed... Fucking gain back whatever weight you lost by working out and starving today and yesterday.

I hate my black-and-white, all-or-nothing mentality.

The therapist called today, wants me to set up my new schedule for this semester. Thursday doesn't work for me, not this week. I'm supposed to go swimming with my love at the river. Oh yes, outside, at the river. Where the other hundreds of beautifulskinnyperfect college bitches go to swim in their teeny bikinis.

Good thing he adores me for who I am and will love me for the rest of my life regardless of my weight, huh?

Too bad I can't get that fact through my irrational little mind...

Enough mind(ful)less chatter. Critical Theory for English Majors homework awaits!

Love you. Yes. You. Every last one of you. Thank you. For youknowwhat.

Stay effin' LOVELY, ladies.

P.S. - Thank you for your answers to my deletion vs. privatizing question. I think I'd like to go with making it an invitation-only type thing... Private and all. I just don't know how to do that. I've never looked into it. I will, though. My main concern is that I keep all of you. You're the only thing here I can't stand to lose.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

If I delete myself, will you cry at my blog funeral? My loves... :(

My lovelies...

This has to be quick, and I know it's random...

I don't know how many of you will even care to read this anymore, considering my lengthy absence, my total (apparent) disregard of your well-being, your lives, your goings-on...

I miss you so much, and so much has been going on.

I write quickly today because I have a choice to make.

I must either delete my blog, or make it entirely private.

If I do the latter (which is preferable), then I'd need to somehow...invite?...people? I guess? to be able to read it? Or they could request readeryness?

I don't know how that works... Fuck.


It's not like I write anymore anyway, you know? Hardly ever. I keep meaning to, and now I actually have something about which to write...

But...deleting this would be to sever contact with so many of the most amazing individuals I've ever encountered with parallel issues to my own, people who understand me in ways that no one else ever, EVER will in my

I can't bring myself to give that up...somehow...

Friday, July 23, 2010

I very literally have bruises on my ass from the bones there...

I don't like it.

And I'm not even skinny enough to have that kind of problem.


I know I've been gone for nearly a fucking month. I'm so sorry.
Know that I'm sorry. Know that I've been busier than I can even begin to tell you.

I'll put up a photo of the last project I completed for my 2D design class. I'm especially proud of it. Took about 40 hours to draw, I guess, as much of it was stippling with an extra super teeny tiny ink pen. I love it, though. Thus, the insane business that's kept me away...

That all being said... I don't know how often I'll be able to update over the next couple of weeks while summer school is still going on, but I will try. I've been getting back into my hardcore eating/non-eating/whatever you want to call it type issues as of late and I'm loving/hating it like I used to and it's where I belong. I feel it. Self-destruction is where it's at. Ha. Twisted bitch. Whatever.

So I took a couple photos for you ladies this morning, just to give you an update, an idea of where I am, and included one of the little one and I out to dinner the other night for good measure cuz she's just so darned cute. :P Oh, and there's the one of the stippling/line project from 2D design. :D

128.4. No laxies. I'm guessing probably 127.6 or so, had I gone and laxied last night, but I didn't figure it necessary, as I've been all but starving lately anyway. Had a good sized salad and some veggies yesterday, though, and a banana in the morning. Good chance that they were showing on the scale today.

Bruises. On the underside of my very UNDERSIZED assets. Saw them yesterday for the first time. NO, I'm not taking photos of those. :P But they're most certainly there. I'd noticed the discomfort associated with sitting on any semi-hard surface a few days ago. Anything without padding is pretty severely uncomfy; my butt bones push through my non-butt and it's like I have to shift over and kind of sit sideways in order to get any semblance of a normal sitting feeling at all. This is...weird...and not really cool... Because it means that I have no ass at all... I mean, if I wear the right jeans, it still looks OKAY... but definitely not womanly anymore. The love of my life...YES... YES. THAT...AHHH!!! You don't KNOW ABOUT THAT!!! GAH!!!

HOLD UP! Shit. GOD. Haha...Oh man. Sorry. Okay... I'm...My thoughts are all over. I have to tell you about that too. Umm...I'll come back to him. :D :D :D

Anyway... He's coming back..from... This will clue you in if you've been a loyal true blue follower for a while... <3 If you haven't, no worries, mate, you'll get a clue here in a sec... but he's coming back from Australia in four days... FOUR DAYS... and I want to be perfect for him. He's so excited to see me; it's been nearly two months. He's seen pictures me... *blushy blushy* and he loves my body. Loves my bones, even. YES! Am I in freakin' ana heaven? But he also loves my tits and ass and thighs... and my ribs and my hipbones and my shoulderblades...gah. Can he have both?! I don't know. I just don't know.



How to summarize... how to not get myself in trouble... ha. There's this wonderful lovely amazing man who I'm fairly certain you'll think I'm crazy for loving so deeply so early on (known him since January) but to be quite frank, I don't give a rat's beautifully beasty behind. He's a children's literature professor at the university I attend and he's my foreverlove. He's from Australia originally but has been living here for a few years. He's the most amazing man I've ever met and we are mad for one another in more ways than I've ever imagined two people could possible love. I won't bore you anymore with that. It's ...just... It is insane. And it's unimaginably wonderful. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life. I can't wait for him to get here, to be here, to touch my face. I want to hear his voice more than I want anything in this world.

He made a comment about how much he admired my self-control, my discipline, in reaching my goals and all that. He knows about my ED because we don't hide anything from one another. He supports me in what I do as long as I don't harm myself, and he knows that when I reach the point in my life and in myself at which I am completely ready to embrace recovery, I will do so. He will be there to help pick me up when I stumble, to support me then as he does now. For the time being...he loves me just as I am, and accepts me with all of my flaws, all of my scars, and all of my imperfections as I struggle for perfection. And he loves my fucking bones. Gah.


So.... How are ya'll?

I've missed you.

Oh, and Friski? I got your comment about the Topa, but it was from an Anonymous comment, so I couldn't comment back? I forget the exact site I got it from now, as it's been so long and I just have a legit script from my shrink now... BUT... I do remember that I just googled "Topamax without prescription" and went from there. Did some research on the cheapest and dove headfirst. Kinda scary, but if you want to do that and then run your findings by me after, I'd be happy to see how I could help. :D

Stay lovely, my skinnies. I do adore you fiercely.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

It's happening again...

You remember a while back when

I had some issues with my Topa dosage (shortly after I first began taking it)

and I found that suddenly I couldn't even force myself to eat something as innocuous as...

a tiny bit of broccoli?

Negative calorie food terrified me, because it still weighed something, and I was literally afraid of the consequence that would follow if I consumed it...

The scale would reflect my failure the next day

if I put that food in my mouth.

Illogical, yes, in retrospect.

But the fact remains...

I was petrified of food, for two whole days.

I had mixed feelings about this at the time, but toward the end of the second day, I was mostly scared. I decreased my dosage for the time being and everything evened out.

I've gained back up to a hideous 133.4. (hideous is in the eye of me, I know. and maybe to some of you. here. have a looksee as to what I've allowed myself to become):

Fuck me.

I was at 126 just a few months ago. Yes, it's been gradual. Doesn't matter.

My thighs officially touch again. Barely graze one another, in the tiniest place.
But they touch.

There are places that jiggle and hang over clothing that would not and did not just six weeks ago. I was doing so well.

It's all back now. Backtracking. Backsliding. ugh...Wasted time and effort pisses me the fuck off. And saddens me.

It's happening now.

I'm weak from not sleeping for nearly 36 hours (art project is doing its best to kill me) and from eating very little for the past 12 hours...

And I...

cannot eat.

Don't want to.

It repulses me, the pantry, the refrigerator. The thought.

Finally. I don't know why it's happening (stress? meds? seven energy drinks in twelve hours and no sleep for days?) but I'm not questioning it...I'm going to keep it going.

Thank the gods.

This time...

I shall embrace it.

Fuck getting scared...

I need this.

118. I shall see you. I shall.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

I just ordered pizza and cinnastix for my ...


and for my toilet bowl?
(let's not kid ourselves here)


I am such a mess.


Purge was successful...Binge wasn't as bad as it could have been. Only one and a half slices consumed, the rest c&s'd. Saved by that, I guess.

Not really, though.



Psychiatrist's follow-up on Wednesday to see how my Topa is working. Ha. This post answer anything? Maybe it's working just fine, and *I'm* still the problem.

Pretty sure that's the case, considering I never have an appetite now when I binge.

Hardly ever, in fact.

Sure, it tasted amazing. And it felt good in my mouth. But it felt horrible in my stomach. Which is why we get rid of things. Logical.


I am anything but. Especially on this much sleep. Little sleep.


Monday, June 21, 2010

Throwin' up is bad, mmkay?

So I've only made myself vomit (approximately) five or six times over the past seven days. I think. I don't count. It doesn't matter.

I don't think it matters.

Point is this: I've had the most horrendously painful acid reflux (more than usual) nearly constantly for the past two days now.

It seems a tad early to have done any damage, I'd think. I've probably just aggravated my stomach lining a little, or upset my little acid producer guys in there. Stress, too. Bra too tight, maybe. Side effect of my medication. Any NUMBER of things.

Also puking.

I'm sure.

STOP IT, P.D.!!!

It's not okay. I'm not even sure why I'm doing it, when it happens.

It goes something like this:

Eat eat eat (no control) nom nom scarf shovel what? eat OH GOD, what the fuck have I done?? *grab handfuls of love handles* ... *stare in gaping horror* ... *think* ... *contemplate* ... *plot quickly* ... Toothbrush.

Getting "better" at doing it is oddly satisfying (how fucking sick is that? God...) and addictive.


Ouch. TUMS. Rolaids. I have to go. Uncle's home. Love you all.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

There is nothing I can do now but do it right.

I must make a change.

We all say that. Not to generalize, of course. I mustn't do that.

Many of us say that, and often.

I must.

A change must happen, and NOW.


I can't continue to do this to myself.

Eating when I am not hungry, to appease... others... and my sense of ... what?







And you know it's worth it.






Saturday, June 19, 2010

I've been gone because I'm guilty. In more ways than one.

I'm sorry that I don't have time for more of an update. You deserve so much more of an explanation than I have the chance to give you at the moment.

I miss you all so much. I think about you and I wonder how you're doing and I feel this ache pulling me back and then that shame in having abandoned this and you and all comes flooding back, and I know that's probably nearly all nonsense and definitely not any excuse to stay away (and that's only part of the reason I'm not updating as often as I'd like) but I just...

I'm sorry.

Mostly, it's school. This 2D design class I'm taking has me working the point of sheer exhaustion and physical illness... I'm not even close to exaggerating. I've stayed on campus til 5:30 AM so many nights (once even having to bring little B with me in order to finish up a big project right before deadline) only to come home, sleep for two hours, then make it back to class again by noon that same day.

Three more weeks of this torture. It's killing me. I love it.

Fucking masochist.

For a while there I was losing weight because of this class. It was great. I wasn't even able to eat properly, due to all of the work and my new crazy schedule. Then I settled in and started eating again. Shit. Now I'm back to 131 again. Now I know some of it is muscle. I've been walking a lot more, stairs and stairs and more stairs all over campus, and parking lots further and further away than ever. I look thinner than ever, and that's all that's supposed to matter, right? Ha. RIGHT.

It doesn't work that way.

I want 125 by July 24th. I need it. I need to starve. I must.

131. But looking thinner. Why can't I be happy with that?

The man I love told me yesterday that my body looks "perfect".. that I am "beautiful beyond his words"... I took a photo for him, sent it (as he is in Australia at the moment), and he even went so far as to thank me...for... get this... "creating this art" for him. He loves my physical appearance, my body, just like it is. He adores me.

I just want to adore myself.


I've been purging a lot more. Daily. Multiple times per day.

No bueno.

Thought I should throw that in there. It really has no segue or relevance.

I am so sorry, my ladies, my lovelies, my ANGELS. You have given me so much...SO MUCH... and have brought me so far over the time that I've been here. I promise I'm not gone forever, and for those of you who choose to stick with me while I figure myself out and get through the next few months of horrendous summer classes, I thank you in advance. I love you dearly.

Stay beautiful. You must KNOW that you are. I do.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

I feel SKINNY today!!!

Ha! That NEVER happens!

Okay, so 'never' is a strong word. SOMEtimes I do.

But you know what I mean. It's a rare occurrence 'round these parts.

You wake up with a concave belly and hip bones that just go jutting up beneath your bed covers to meet your ceiling fan like mountains reaching up to meet some kind of beautiful morning sky and you can't help but reach your greedy little hands down there and TOUCH THEM.

Ahhhhhhh!!!!!!! They're LOVELY!!! And then your ribs want to follow suit and it's just one big happy family of bones and taut skin and it's all so just don't want to ruin that perfect emptiness.

I love it.

I have to remember this when I get the urge to do what I just did.

Stopped writing to take care of the little one (who had unfortunately wet her bed in the night...Fun mommy type stuff...YAY) and then, after having dealt with that situation, I proceeded to enter the kitchen, pour myself a small bowl of gluten-free cinnamon Chex cereal (DELICIOUS and about 130 calories) with almond milk (about 40) and then I ATE IT. Then a banana. Then I wanted more. But I came back here instead because I know I'm not hungry. I just still FEEL hungry because it's morning and my brain hasn't had time to wake the fuck up and realize I just gave it entirely too many carbs in one sitting (not for the average person, of course, just for me).

ANYway... I should go. Little B needs a bath and I have some running around to do. Thank you so much, my beauties, for you welcome-backs and your encouragement. :) I am ever grateful.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Would you believe it? I'm really here...

This sums up how I feel right about always now:

I honestly don't have a good story for you lovelies. I'm sorry.

Well. I take that back. I have an amazing story. You KNOW I fucking do.

I just don't fully share it.

GAWD, I wish I could.

You know? Just spill myself out all over this table to you, gurgling and bubbling and babbling like a fountain, because that's what I do best, right?

And you'd all just take me in like you do so well, and you'd be lovely.

Because that's what YOU do best.

Well, I'm back in the 120s, but not by much. I don't know if I'd updated you guys or feels like it's been forever...but I'd allowed myself to get as high as 134 again. It seemed almost surreal, seeing that number. Like, WTF, P.D.?! REALLY?! You've come this far, and put yourself through this agony, this misery, and then you've experienced the elation, the ECSTASY of seeing the 120s...and now you're taking it all away for WHAT? FOOD? Honestly...I know the answer to my question before it even forms in my mind:






Food is never worth it.

It's so fleeting. You know? It really is. Always is. It's always gone in moments. And the weight? The hate? The fat, the handfuls of shame and guilt as it's just hanging over my waistband as I sit on my bed and just stare at myself, my thighs spreading out in uneven gelatinous blobs across my mattress...what the hell was I thinking? Was it worth it? GOD NO. NEVER. EVER.

So you'd think the answer would be simple. Keep my BMI under 21. Get it under 20. Do it already. Then under 19. Under 18. Keep it there. Simple.


My Topamax is doing what it should do in curbing my desire to chew and spit compulsively, but not without my help (this is to be expected...this is how this sort of thing works) and I'm having to cut off binge urges left and right, but not as fervently as before, it would seem. 127.8 a few days ago, but 130 this morning. Laxies have not been a part of my regimen for the past three or four days (yay me!) so that's why the number's higher.

I'm still c&s'ing on occasion, just to avoid b&p'ing, which I consider to be worse. I haven't purged in well over a week... I can't remember precisely the last time, and I think that's probably a good sign. My heartburn is worse than ever though, which is odd, considering the throwing up thing has gotten less frequent. Meh.

What else has been going on... Goodness. Short version because I have to run and do some junk. I've been trying to get tan. Tan fat is better than pale fat. Crucial. I'm in love. I shouldn't be. I can't help it. There is another man. I love him, but in a different way. Used to be in love with him, for nearly ten years. Now he believes himself to be fully and deeply in love with me. I cannot hurt him. He means too much to me. It's entirely and completely complicated.

I am $800 short on my tuition for my summer classes. This sucks huge donkey dong. Fortunately for me, my uncle is an incredibly generous man and has offered to loan me the dinero until I can pay him back in the fall with my loan money from my grant I get in September. Still sucks in the meantime because that means I get absolutely NO funds with which to keep myself afloat in any manner of speaking... baby sitter money or hey-I-feel-like-a-Coke-Zero money or whatever. Ah well. Such is life.

I have new incentive (somewhat related to the in-love-ness going on in the above paragraph ^^^ up there) to lose even more quickly my last nine or ten pounds. I say my last... pssh. I know. I'm nine or ten pounds away from my "goal weight" of 118. That's where I'll be officially "underweight" for my height. Whatever. I'll want to keep going because I know I'll still look hideous. I KNOW it. Nine pounds off of THIS body is NOT going to make me look thin. FUCK no. But...anyway. I have approximately seven weeks while ... someone... special... he's going to be gone. Away. And when he gets back... I want to have gotten as small as possible. I want to blow him away with how insanely hotly thin I am. He loves my bones. <3

This is a characteristically LONG P.D.-esque post. I know not if that is a good thing or a bad one, but I hope you don't mind. I love you lovelies, I truly do. Thank you so much for sticking around. I can't tell you how happy it made me to see that, in my absence, not only have you REMAINED here, but I've actually managed to GAIN a few more beautiful blogger followers as well! How very wonderful.

I will do my best to keep up...get back into the swing of things...

STAY perfect. You already are.


Sunday, May 23, 2010

Quick update, not much...But I'm alive. Ha.

I've been eating a lot.

Apparently, that's how I'm planning to "find myself?" Fuck that shit.

I've gotta cut it out before I get myself back into the 130s and REALLY regret this bout of unexplained stupidity.

Hell, for all I know, I could already be in the 130s. It sure as fuck feels like I am. Love handles are back in full force, whereas they were all but completely nonexistent just a few short weeks ago.

Yeah, if I had to guess, I'd say 132. God. Damn.

I'm not going to weigh until I start to feel thin again. And I certainly won't feel thin again until I'm back to eating (or not eating, rather) the way I should be. Maybe even working out, shit. What a novel idea, right?

((What an awesomely positive tone I've got goin' here! Hell yeah! I can just see it now! EVERYONE is gonna want to read this shit!)) :D :D :D *sigh...* I... I wish you could all just curl up beside me in my bed, and in a circle all around me in my room and I could whisper to you the truths of me and my goings on behind the closed doors of this place, my real life, instead of HERE, in the middle of CYBEReverything.

It's not safe here, even as safe as it feels.

I've increased my Topamax again, in case anyone's curious about that. 100 in the morning, 50 in the evening. I'm going to keep upping it until it does what it's supposed to do. I should NOT want to binge like this. That's why I'm taking this shit, right?


Love you. Thank you for your continued support, even while I'm away. I hope to be stronger when I return.


Wednesday, May 19, 2010

I'm sorry. I think I need a break. I'm sorry.

I don't know what's up.

I've been so lovingly and generously awarded two...count 'em: TWO...Beautiful Blogger awards and I've yet to go through the process of officially thanking, accepting, and return-bestowing them...I suck. I'm sorry.

I'm disconnected. Dismembered. I'm sure I'll re-member myself soon enough. Remember myself. When I do, I will return to you. I'm almost positive it won't be long.

How could I stay away from you for long? You're my lovelies.

I'm eating and gaining, purging and hating, and all at the same time, not EVEN caring.

It's really rather horrible. And at the same time, really rather normal. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nope. Nothing extraordinary at all.

So, you see, nothing to worry about. I shall be fine. I have to be, you know?


Sunday, May 16, 2010

I've been gone. I think I'm still gone.

Things have been kind of odd. And off. They still are.

I'm somehow back to 129, and I thought I was doing really well. I was nearly back to 126. I stopped (ab)using the laxies so often and I'm sure that has something to do with it. Probably a LOT to do with it, actually. I feel HUGE.

Enough of that.

Things are not okay. But I don't feel like writing about me. I talked to K last night for the first time in a long time. Yes. You remember him. The man I was sure for so long would probably end up being my husband eventually, just because everything always seemed to point in that direction, at least for the past close-to-two-years, and though there was no rush in getting to that point, we just felt...right. For the most part, of course.

I left him, though, for a number of reasons, and I've still not let myself fully grieve over the loss of our relationship, not really. I can't. I'm not able to experience any deep emotion in its entirety, not while I'm taking my Topamax, not while I'm under this drug-induced cloud of constant apathy. Obviously it's worth it to me, still, because I continue to take it. That's neither here nor there.

It has occurred to me multiple times over the past week or so that I should at least call him or text him to let him know that I've been thinking of him. I don't want him to feel that I've moved on completely and forgotten all about him; I don't want him to feel abandoned. I don't want him to feel alone. I care for him. I am not in love with him any longer, though, and I will not do anything to provide for him any sense of hope for any kind of rekindling in the future. Such a fine line to tread, and broken hearts are fragile.

He texted me last night. As I attempted a reply, carefully choosing my words, backspacing, contemplating, retyping, rethinking, he called. He's been horrible. He's been worse than ever before. About a week ago he found himself falling into such a deep depression that he wasn't able to do anything, or talk to anyone; he was all alone in his house, having panic attacks, and he didn't want to call me to worry me or stress me out, he told me. I felt absolutely...fucking terrible. He's been a wreck. And I? I've been...over here, my life in my own selfish bubble, just trying to keep my own shit straight, keeping my head above water, keeping my own tears from drowning me. I've been ignoring pain and drinking and going out with friends and kissing boys and singing karaoke and tanning and purging and smoking cigarettes and taking pills and failing classes and Facebooking and reading convoluted novels that help me escape the world that fucking sucks...I'm living, and he's been dying. I know I can't necessarily fault myself for his depression, but fuck...Had I just taken the time to call him, to let him know he was on my mind, even THAT may have made a difference to him... Shit. Well. Whatever. Whatifs are not anyone's friends.

He went to his doctor. They put him on Lexapro, even though he requested Wellbutrin first. I don't know if it would have made any difference. He just knows that I've taken the latter for three years now and it's the only one that's worked for me. Everyone's chemistry is different, and it's such an inexact science. The Lexapro resulted in his having nearly every horrid side effect imaginable. Deepening depression, extreme irritability, panic attacks, suicidal thoughts... His very close friend, to whom I am completely and eternally grateful, flew him back home to MN to stay with him for a bit until he gets his emotional self all sorted. I just... We were so close for so long. He has been my best friend for nearly two years, and he's falling apart. It's incredibly difficult for me to separate myself from the guilt that's trying to pull me down into feeling like it's my fault, you know?

I know that remaining in a relationship in which I was not happy in order to spare his feelings would have been ridiculous. Still. This hurts. I just want him to be okay. He said it helped a lot just to hear from me, and to know that I want him to feel better. I told him that we need to make a point of talking more often. He agreed.

I upped my Topamax a few days ago to 100 mg in the morning and 50 at night. I've been alternating between bingeing for a few days to proper starving for a few, which essentially amounts to maintaining my sustainable loss. My dreaded appointment with the shrink at school is on Wednesday. I'm so inclined just to eat like a normal person would until then so that I can weigh in at like 132 or something...Just not to raise any eyebrows, you know? An 8 lb loss will be a lot easier to explain than a 15 lb one. :P

I just feel so out of it. Emotionally, mentally, physically. I guess that's the norm around here, huh?

Thank you all for your continual support. It does mean so much. The only girls who understand fully are scattered all over the world, and yet so very close to me, too.

I am so fortunate to have you.

Stay lovely.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Today...I fit a size 2. What...?

That can't be right.

This will be a relatively short post. But I couldn't NOT blog about this. It's kind of a momentous thing, you know?

I was out with a really good friend of mine (she had to do some returning of things, shopping, etc.) and though I didn't have any plans to buy anything, I figured it couldn't hurt to try on some swanky expensive clothing while we were out...cuz that's always fun, right?

This dress I picked up was $158. I would never spend that on a dress. I could probably find something very similar to it at Ross or T.J. Maxx or something for like $20 anyway...but that's not the point. We're at Ann Taylor. This place is pretty fancy (not REALLY fancy) and all of the clothing is GORGEOUS. I pick up a size 2. Why? Because I'm crazy and I want to see how far I have to go before I can fit into it. How many more inches must I lose? So I take into the dressing room. Prepare for disappointment. Slide. Shimmy. Zip. Wtf?

Size...effing...2. (This is at 5'6.5" and 128 lbs. as of this morning, btw...)

My day was made, obviously.


I mean, other shit is going on in my life that is not so awesome. Naturally. Really...not...awesome. :( Heartbreaky stuff that makes my soul ache. know? This kind of little afternoon pick-me-up can't hurt.

I put it back and told myself that it'll be on sale in a few months...or the discount rack at T.J. Maxx next week. ;)

Love ya, ladies. Sottile, thank you for the Beautiful Blogger award. YOU, milady, are beautiful. I'll have to do the proper give'embackouts when my daughter's not bein' all rambunctious and needing bedtime stories. ;)


Stay lovely.

Monday, May 10, 2010

I don't know what I'm expecting to happen, exactly...

...eating a slice of pumpkin pie for breakfast (even if it WAS made with Splenda and Smart Balance butter substitute and egg whites and whatever...) and then two sugar-free chocolate pudding cups just now and a handful of gluten-free pretzels and some gluten-free pretzels and a Soyjoy bar and wtf? I mean, honestly. Has my sense of responsibility just gone out the window, here?

My head hurts.

I need to see 126 again tomorrow. I'm not doing anything at all conducive to that end at the moment.


Sunday, May 9, 2010

Happy Mother's Day, ladies. Oh yes. It matters.

She's my savior. She's the reason I'm alive.

She is the tiny, beautiful reason this bittersweet and wretched disease has not, and WILL not, take me over completely, changing my body from warm, vibrant life to foreverfrigid death.

Today is the fourth Mother's Day I've enjoyed as a mother. Today, as she celebrates me (with her construction paper cards and the flowers my uncle helped her pick out at the grocery store)...I shall celebrate her.

My darling B, you have given me the most precious gift I shall ever receive. I realize how blessed and fortunate and lucky I am each and every time my reflection is captured in those incredible blue-green mirror-marble eyes.

Thank you for being the precious sweet smile in my every day. <3
Every moment I spend breathing is spent existing for you.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Belly dancing seems like a good idea.

I tried getting into it, way back when.

I was heavier. I got discouraged. I was probably at about 145 or so. I had more abs then, because I hadn't starved all my muscle away, but there was more fat covering them, too.

Now my abs have nearly gone, but so has the fat. So has the jiggly hip stuff that shimmies when you belly dance. But I've seen some skinny belly dancers shake their shit and it still looks damn sexy. I'm thinkin' if I were to really get back into it, the muscles would come. And then I would be awesome.

I pulled out my old belly dancing coin scarf and tried it on. Queued up some good tabla drum beats and realized that yes, I could definitely find this groove again. Perhaps getting back into this will help me find my center a bit in something other than this, my ever-present obsession.

I took a picture. Here it is.

I love ya'll. ;)

A new low...Again, it's not seeming real.



I was 128 yesterday. Then again, I fasted for most of yesterday...on accident...kind of.

Yes, that wonderful and never-before-seen number is brought to you by our lovely and reliable sponsors, chocolate senna tea and everyone's favorite blue pills. BUT...the fact still remains that MY body, whatever is left after all waste has been removed from it, THIS body still weighs 126.8 pounds. 57.64 kilograms? I've never measured myself that way before. It sounds nicer, being a lower number. ;) A lower-than-ever BMI of 20.2. I...can't lose this. I mean, I can't let this get away from me. I just ate a relatively large breakfast, considering the pretty meager amount of food I've consumed over the past 48 hours. 1/2 banana, 7 blackberries, 1/4 clementine orange, 1 dried apricot, 1/4 cup of mixed nuts, AND 1/4 cup of gluten-free rice chex. With a sip of almond milk. Wow. Yeah. Jeez. That's the way I tend to do things, though, I suppose. Load up on breakfast so that I can take my huge handfuls of pills and supplements comfortably, and then just take it really easy on the eating for the rest of the day. Yes. That's the idea, anyway. It's the follow-through that'll getcha.

I did want to thank you all SO very much for you well-wishing and good lucks and whatnot on my final. :) I actually didn't get to read them until AFTER I'd taken it, but I know that your combined positive energy was exactly what got me through it. I wrote ALL the way up until the very last minute. 1:30 PM. The clock told me time was up, and I resigned myself to the fact that I'd done all that I could. My mind had been scrambled from the get-go, and I didn't feel I had written a very good essay, much less two of them. In fact, I was pretty embarrassed to turn it in, to be honest, as this IS Dr. Aussie McDreamyLoveProfessor Guy we're talking about, after all, and I value his opinion of my writing quite highly. I knew I could have written more skillfully. My head just wasn't in it. My stomach was growling incessantly the entire time, too. I thought it was funny. Meh.

126.8. I'm kind of not wanting to eat for the rest of the day now, just for fear of seeing anything higher on the scale tomorrow. Isn't that just the story of this life...shit.

And you know what sucks the most? I ended therapy with my wonderful therapist this past week (she works at the university and I have to switch every semester...blows...) and as I left on Tuesday I REALLY really...for a good few moments...really wanted to try to get fully better for her, right now. I mean, for myself too, naturally. But it's just that she believes in me, or it seems that she does, and she's worked so hard and put so much of herself into this, and she wants me to continue in therapy, wants me to pursue something with a specialist, etc... I know I'll have to face these demons, face recovery at some point. I will. If I don't, I will end up killing myself. And I love life too much. There is enough reason and rational thinking in this crazed mind yet to see that. But I am not ready. Not yet. And if there's anything I know about myself at all, it's that I can't be forced to do anything unless I'm absolutely fully internally prepared to do so. So.

I have a doctor's appointment on the 19th. I'm thinking of investing in those ankle weights I've been putting off buying. The last time they weighed me was a little over a month ago, I guess...and I'd made sure to drink a lot of water first and wear some extra clothes and belts. I weighed in at like 140 or something.

By the 19th, I'll certainly be past 125, I'd hope. They're not going to like that. Nah... I could pull the ol' "I'm 5'6" thing...Instead of the truth, which is "I'm closer to 5'7"...

I'll just be sure NOT to mention anything about the fact that I'm delighted over the fact that I'm approximately 9.78 pounds away from clinically underweight, yeah? ;) ha...yeah. Good call, I'm thinkin'... Maybe they won't notice.


I've got mucho house cleaning to do. Thanks for reading, my angels. I wish you love and light, but lightness above all.


Friday, May 7, 2010

I've been missing, even from myself. Don't worry, though.

It's normal, for finals week. I've gotta try and be present for school, ya know?

Studying is especially difficult, I find, as of late. I'm starving my mind, in more ways than one, even aside from diet-related issues. It's also apparent that my Topamax makes it hard for me to concentrate on reading (or rather, staying focused while reading long passages)... This is no bueno.

Today is my last final. Children's Literature. It will be my most challenging exam yet. Wish me luck.

128.6 today, by the way. After a few bad days of bingeing like it didn't even matter (when we all know it really, REALLY does) and getting all the way back up to 132, seeing this number really does wonders for my sense of regained self-control. Yes.

I needed that.

Know what else I need?

More ink. Gah. Can I look like her, please? In every way possible?

<3 you, loves.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Newly inspired...Excuse the randomness.

So they had some pretty sun dresses there at Wal-Mart, they did. Hanging there on the rack, they looked so nice, flowy, airy. Light. Like I want to be. I picked up the 4, and then thought I should go ahead and grab a 6 as well. Better to have both so that when the disappointment of seeing that the 4 was too small SLAPPED me in the face I wouldn't have to get all the way dressed again to come back out and get the 6...You know how that goes.

Tried the 4 first. Why not? May as well. Standing beneath those horrid fluorescent dressing room lights we all know SO well, I pondered the girl in the mirror we all hate so passionately. I cocked my head to the side and studied her, contemplating the angles and the curves, the reflective surfaces and the way light trickled down from one sloping edge to another, as if her shoulderblades were mountaintops in some sort of majestic landscapey photograph. Leaning my head to the other side, I considered the hair, falling haphazardly around the collarbones that jutted out all the way to the ends of the shoulders now, never stopping. Your hair is a mess. I nearly said it aloud. This body...This frail body? It's...It's what I wanted. It's what I want. It's too small for a size 4 dress.

The hollow places where flesh should be excite me. The sternum and ribs that show proudly through skin boast of strength and perseverance, and laugh wryly at the label of the bra that lies on the floor of the dressing room...34 A, huh? Remember when you had just had your child? 40 D. Ha! Never again. That's quite all right with me. I never want it again. I could hardly contain my shock when a 36 B was too large. And now? This dress, this dress that swallows me, this cute little dress that I was willing to spend $12 on...ha... I almost bought it without even trying it on. It's the smallest fucking size they offer. And it looks horrible on me. It billows around me like a pillowcase.

Mixed thoughts. Feelings. Doesn't it suck? Not being able to fit into this thing? Didn't you want to wear it, to feel pretty in it, to feel light and airy and cutesy and NO...NO! Fuck that shit! No. I wanted THIS body. And I want more. MORE. I want my fat fucking disgusting thighs to match my emaciated back and chest and ribcage. I want my legs to be bone thin and beautiful. Thin. Oh, thin. You are waiting for me. I can feel it. I have but only to allow you in. This day...This day is a turning point.

It's in the air. in the air.

My lovelies...Let us be true to what our hearts desire. It is all the freedom we truly have in this world, the ability to follow our hearts.

Let us be air.


I am disappearing, it feels, but somehow there's more of me.

I haven't blogged in what seems like too long and I'm bothered by the guilt I've built up in myself over not having been here.

Yes, that's not okay. Like any of us really needs anything else with which to fortify the massive guiltcastles in which we imprison ourselves eternally. Friggin' Rapunzel of Self-Loathing over here...'cept my hair is too short, so I guess all hope is SURELY lost, eh?

Ah, man. So much has gone on and yet I feel like...not writing about it. I feel scared to write about it. I feel like if I say it out loud, it will become...more true, more real. And, naturally, more public. In this particular case (for now, at least) I must keep certain parts of me nonpublic. Yes. I will promise this much, though, my pretties: I will provide a complete update of all goings-on just as soon as possible, when all pieces have fallen and fit together as they should and as they will... All will be revealed and all that. :) Hold on for me, k? It'll be worth it, I ASSURE you. In the meantime, try to forget I just blogteased the FUCK out of your imaginations, and let's move on, shall we? ;)

I binged yesterday. Hardcore. For the first time in a long while, I purged after. I hardly got anything up, maybe a lucky fifth of it. MAYBE a fourth. Shit. I don't know. It sucked. I suck at throwing up. I really do. My toothbrush failed me, so fingers were next, and they're not long enough. I mean, I have long fucking fingers, too. Maybe my throat's too long. I felt my stomach, I swear, with my fingertips. I just...I was standing in the steaming shower, holding a plastic bag, trying to be quiet, trying to be secretive, trying to be not so disgusting. Obviously I'm not trying so hard at that now, because this is sounding pretty nastay, as I reread it. Good thing there's no effing judgement here, right? AM I RIGHT? Ha. Yes. Yes, indeed.

So yesterday's failure brings me up to 131.4 today. I KNOW. All the way up from a low of 128.4? JESUSFUCKINGMOTHEROFGANJA. I cannot let this happen to me. I can feel the fat just creeping in, from every direction, but mostly from the direction of my ass and wraps its creepy crawly fatfingeryblubberyhands from around the back and reaches through the middle of my legs and finds the front of me and shit!! Now it's visible from EVERYWHERE!! GAWD!!! It jiggles. I...had lost...the FUCKING jiggle. For all of three days.

I'm so tempted to increase my Topamax. I really really really am. Tweaking my dosage this way has, so far, proven pretty effective. As long as I'm mindful and watchful and careful, paying attention to how I feel and think and act on different dosages and at different times, I'm all good. I've been really okay, mentally speaking, on 50 in the morning, 50 at night. I haven't been freaking out, or going full-on crazy-not-eating-anything, so that's been good. I just want...that...balance. But you, a good restrictive-still-losing-weight balance. :P

So close to goal weight, it only makes sense that I'd be struggling. We all do, this close. Normal. Ha. Normal.

Classes are over for the semester and finals start in a few days. A couple days. Damn.

Little one is done making her mess of peanut butter and jelly all over the place, so I suppose it's time to take her to daycare. And yes, in case you were wondering? I ate some of it.


Umm...My bed's messy...all the time. Real thinspo girls don't have messy bedrooms.

I love you guys. I'm sorry I haven't been around. I really am. Not even so much for my own blog as for yours. Stay lovely, stay true.


Friday, April 30, 2010

New low...but it doesn't feel like it? Hm. Gotta fix that.

I think I'm in denial. Yes. My mind doesn't believe the scale, doesn't believe in the surreal series of blurry numbers before my early morning eyes:


That can't be right.

You know the drill, P.D. Step on, step off. Lean to the left. Step off, step on, teeter-totter-lean, stand right in middle. Stare.



Well. Those laxies did hurt like a mothafuckin'bitchfromhell last night. That could explain it.

So what does the mirror say today? Well, yesterday it hated me. Or, rather, I hated myself. The mirror simply assisted. Yes, Thursday was an especially horrid day for my dysmorphia. In the art building at school, the smooth reflective surface before my sallow face showed me lovely, loving bones in my shoulders, in my arms, in my chest, in my back, all casting shadows down and around themselves under harsh, unforgiving fluorescent lights. But my eyes traveled down to where they never should on a day like yesterday, down to my hips -- my disgraceful hips -- my ass, my thighs...Ugh, fuck...the shudder that escaped was inadvertently audible as it reverberated through the tiny restroom, echoing my disgust for all present to enjoy.

I left rather quickly. That was awkward.

Today, though... Well, at least for now, I feel okay with what MY bathroom mirror is saying about my UPPER body. I've decided to completely IGNORE my lower half for right now, for my own sanity. Yes. I can do that.

As unreal as 128.4 seems, I'm wondering now if 125 will seem any more concrete, as that's the "official healthy weight" I'd decided to keep as my stopping point...if I'm to stop at "healthyish" place. If not...If I want to keep pushing it and really get to my skin-n-bones ideal of beauty... Well, then I'll be pushing on down to 110, won't I?

Baby steps.

Love you, beauties. I hope you all have a wonderful Friday. I know I'm going to try to make mine as badass as I can. I have a free babysitter til Sunday night, so I'm going to try to pack as much partying into this weekend as possible. I don't EVER get to do that!!! :D EVER!!! Trick is to get myself into the partying mood, you know? Cuz if I'm all depressed and shit, well...then there's really no use in trying to go out and get shitfaced and have fun, is there? No, there really isn't. I'll just end up smearing teary mascara all over some random stranger's shirt and feeling sorry for myself, telling my whole life story to some schmuck who doesn't care or deserve to hear it, and spending a whole lot of money I don't actually have on a lot of empty alcohol calories that'll end up on my fat ass and/or in the back alley of a bar off of 6th street because I can't hold my liquor on an empty stomach. Ah, how I wish I had money. I'd just go and get a new tattoo. ;)


Thursday, April 29, 2010

If the laxies woulda worked, it'd be a new low.

I've been nearly as horrible at posting as I have been at keeping up with my reading/commenting.

The innately guilty side of me comes out so strongly when I write here. That's something to ponder sometime.

Not right now.

I thank you all for your support in my decision to keep myself from my cancer sticks. They are dangerous, yes, in so many ways... Honestly, I don't believe I may deserve all of your props... Sure, I was addicted at one point in my life; I would smoke nearly two packs a day for nearly two years, but that was back when I was 18ish. Now...Well, now I had just started up again. About a week ago, and not even in full earnest. So quitting wasn't nearly as difficult as it would have been for someone who had been smoking for a much longer period of time.

Even so...Thank you. :) Your comments are keeping me from going to the corner store RIGHT NOW and buying another pack. I want to...I won't lie. But I won't. I won't, I won't. Thank you for reminding me, even when you're not around.

So 129.0 this morning. I've still been "bingeing," but not to an excessive degree. I'd say one or two binges per day, rather than the day-long binge-fest that leaves you swollen and hating life as you lie in bed wanting to die type thing.

I've been popping laxies and Topamax like it doesn't matter. Like nothing matters.

That is bad.

I've been somewhat careful with the latter. I won't OD. I promise. I've not gone over 100 mg on any given day. It's still quite a jump from 12 mg a day (my smallest dosage as of late)...I'm just..fed the fuck up. Literally and figuratively, ya know?

I don't feel 129.0 today. I feel flabby and huge. I think the scale must be lying. I felt smaller, tighter, more toned at 131. I know I'm losing muscle mass because I stopped drinking my protein shakes. I need to buy some more. There's no really good reason as to why I stopped drinking them. They taste good enough, and they're not any more caloric than the cereal I've pretty much been replacing them with. In fact, they're eliminated from my body more rapidly anyway. It's just that I'm lazy, plain and simple. If I'm not mindful, vigilant, then I'll just put any old thing into my body, just so long as it's low-cal enough to keep me under my limit.

Yep. That's bad.

I feel like I've been living in a blur. I'm fairly certain that's pretty close to normal for the last few weeks of the semester. It has a lot to do with my depression, I know, and my separate meds, and my relationships goings on, and the fact that I feel like my days are living me, rather than the other way around.

The last one? Yes. That's not okay. That leads to the feeling of being out of control, and we all know how much people like you and I just LOVE being out of control...

Ah well. I do need to get going. Little B's daycare is expecting Mommy to bring a picture of us together so they can decorate it for some cutesy little Mother's Day project (and this is the part where P.D. thinks "Oh SHIT, Mother's Day? I haven't even THOUGHT of getting my mom a card or ANYthing! And now, shit, my stepmom, too?? I haven't even spoken to her in like, a year! And I know she'll be sending me something and I really need to make some kind of connection with her because if I don't I just know I'll be the only one of us kids who doesn't (I always do this kind of shit...) *sigh*..."


<3 you, skinnies. Muchly.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

An addendum to nastydisgustingsmokingshit...'s gross. I know.

The guilt was too much. Being out of breath as I trudged up the hill to art class was too much.

I don't really want them. I don't really want that horrible habit. I don't really want that disgusting stench on my clothes and my skin and in my hair.


I gave my last 13 cigarettes and my lighter to my therapist.

She smiled and took them for me.

I <3 her.

Maybe if I turn my lungs black...

I've picked up smoking again.

I'm trying, anyway. Trying to convince myself that the pros outweigh the cons is pretty damn difficult when I know how horrible it is for me, and when it makes me feel even more unhealthy than I already do.

Still, it's pretty damn hard to want to eat anything at all with that freshly smoked cancerstick flavor coating your entire mouth, isn't it?

That, and you can't really beat the nearly instantaneous mellow it provides...

I binged yesterday. And today. Yes, already! But yesterday's total was about 1,600 (that's estimating high, just to be safe) and my weight is the same as it was yesterday morning, so I'm not going to worry TOO much. Yeah, I weighed myself again. Pssh. To think I can actually wait DAYS between weigh-ins?? I used to. I simply can't. It's like the highlight of my day, waking up to that scale. Fear, apprehension, excitement, anticipation...Like some sort of twisted Christmas morning insanity, rushing to the bathroom to see what it has to tell me. 130.4. Today's breakfast was too much. Soyjoy bar: 140. Cereal with milk: 220. Gluten-free cookies: 65. Banana: 100. Cigarette: 0. And it helped me avoid the gluten-free tapioca toast I was really craving beforehand. Thank you, nicotine.

I really shouldn't start this up again. Back when I smoked a pack and a half a day, I was profoundly addicted. It's simply who I am. It's kind of my thing. Logic tells me to avoid addictive substances or behaviors because it's almost inevitable that I'll be hooked in no time. I can't even afford to get addicted to cigarettes again.

This post is boring.

Ummm...I should go get ready for school. I hope my lovely ladies (and gents) are doing well today...With everything in me I send you strength of will and presence of mind, and all other sorts of niceties you may need in order to reach your personal goals. Thank you for your unending support. :)

Here's to starving for the rest of the day... <3

Monday, April 26, 2010

Some contradiction, for I am made of it:

I want my bones to show for always. I do not want them to disappear.

I want them to be even more prominent than they are now, everywhere, in graceful beautiful ethereal fairysplendor.

I want to retain my sense of self, my soulfulness, my inner angel, the qualities for which I am known and loved and valued by those who know me and by complete strangers.

I want control.

I want to be free of control.

I am not ready to give up this tool that I have, this instrument of loss that has obviously helped me and hurt me thus far, but I am intelligent enough to realize that I must be incredibly mindful and cautious.

I will continue to take my medicine. I will modify my dosage as my emotions dictate. It seems like the most logical thing to do at this point. I cannot allow myself to binge the way I did yesterday.

It was fucking disgusting.

I wantedneededhad to purge and I did NOT. It filled me, the failure, up to my throat and up to my eyes, I wanted to cry but there were no tears in me to spill over onto flushed cheeks.... There was no quiet place, no safe space, no time or escape to get rid of it...So I let it remain within me, making me gain.

130.0 today.

Up an entire pound from two days ago. AFTER laxies.

Thank you, xEllex, for you are lovely. Your words did comfort me this morning. You're an angel.

I shall take my medicine until it starts to make me less of P.D. again. And when that happens, I will decrease my dosage again, for it only seems to take a few days on 12 mg to make me feel normal. Then back to 25-50 as is necessary, and so on, cycling. I don't care. It's going to work or it's not. Only one way to find out. I'm going to try to wait til Friday to weigh myself. This, as I think it, sounds damn near impossible... But I can try, huh? Just hurry up and drink a glass of water right quick just as soon as I get up, before I even go to the bathroom, because then getting on the scale will be pointless anyway. EEeeeeaaassy. ;)

I had a lovely weekend, incidentally. Other than yesterday's binge, things were positively wonderful. I apologize for being a shitty follower as of late. I have no good excuses. I'm trying to catch up as I can, but finals are coming up this and next week, and I am SO far from prepared.

Love you, skinnies! Keep whatever capacity you can.

Friday, April 23, 2010

Today, Topamax dose gets cut in half...again.

Whether or not I'm ready to stop taking it completely (and this is still, indeed, undecided, as I do not feel I have exhausted every option available), I cannot simply stop taking my pills one day, and be all better. Seizures? No thanks. Extreme withdrawal (fatigue, depression worse than I suffer now, etc.)? No, I'm good on those, too.

My initial dosage was 25 mg. After close to a week, we upped to 50. My body and mind have always been highly sensitive to medications of all kinds, but especially psychotropic drugs such as this, and my Wellbutrin. As Zen once put it, "I got greedy." I wanted more loss, faster. I wanted more appetite suppression. I got what I asked for. I don't want it anymore.

Yes, I'm admitting a mistake. Ahh! She's fucking human! Ohmyfuckingjesuschristinahotpinksubmarine, she JUST SAID IT. Yeah, that's for all you fuckhead anonymous haters who wanna go and try to throw it in my face that I'm suffering for a choice I made. WAKE THE FUCK UP. We're all suffering for the choices we make, every goddamned day. Jesus.

End rant.

By the way, if you're an anonymous reader and you're a perfectly lovely person and you just adore reading blogs and you never go about spewing hateful comments from your mouth-hole for no reason other than to satisfy some other deep-seated bitter resentment of the world itself... Then, no, that sweet little diatribe up there was NOT for you. I love you.

It seems a tad silly, cutting a tiny 25 mg pill in half. But I'm doing it. If I can continue to take this drug and retain ME...I shall do it. If not...Well, then. I will ransack the hell outta that bridge when I come to it.

(In case you haven't noticed, I already feel quite a bit better. I've been taking 25 mg in the morning for the past few days, and haven't taken it yet today. About an hour after I swallow it? I'll be a pursed-lipped zombie without a soul for approximately two hours, and then I'll spend the rest of the day oscillating between thundering [though slow-beating] heart and extreme fatigue/depression)...Yes. You're right. I AM going to talk to my doctor.)

They're going to be so not okay with my weight loss.

ANYway. I'm happy... wait...did I just say that? YES! I'm happy about 129.0 today. Why? Because yesterday I made myself eat. That wasn't fun. But I did it, and I feel less weak today, and I still lost a little. It was only about 900, but it was still something. Mostly protein shakes and yogurt. I'm not happy that my boobages have managed to shrink AGAIN. We're talking like, nearly As now, ladies. On my nearly 5'7 frame. TEENY tits. Yuck. Need some saline, stat!

I feel like I'm rambling. I'll let you skinnies go. As always, thank you for your especially supportive comments...Goodness knows I've needed them desperately throughout this entire ordeal. You're my family.

Stay lovely. <3

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Broke into the 120s today...Isn't that good?


129.6. It doesn't feel like cause for celebration, for some reason. I know it is. I think it is. I think the real reason I'm not excited is that I can't be. This medication is stealing my emotions. Sottile... You're right. About everything. All of it. I'm not myself. And Zen? You too. And Blue? You too. This is not okay. I wanted to stop bingeing, not being a person. Not being who I AM. Being thin and a faceless, heartless, emotionless, thoughtless zombie will not be worth it.

Neither will being dead or in a hospital bed or whatever, but I'm thinking more about the psychological side of this at the moment than the physical.

Apparently it's more important to me...Though a good mind is nothing without a real, live, warm-and-breathing body to carry it around, huh?


I've continued to take the Topamax, despite all of this bullshit, because I truly believe(d) that if I gave it more time, everything'd balance out. I would begin to feel normal normal as I get...except thin and not bingey. That would be too perfect, wouldn't it?

Well. I can't have it ruining who I am. Why? Because somewhere beneath all of this melancholy and despair and apathy is a really kickass chick.

I can't lose her.

This seems simple enough. Stop taking it.

It's really not that easy. I'll definitely have to consult my shrink first, as the withdrawal effects can include seizures, among other things. That's just the one that stands out in my mind. Scary ass shit.

Also, I have the obvious (and rather debilitating) struggle of the weight issue. To have come so far, will I be throwing it away with the cessation of this medication? Will I gain back the eleven pounds I've lost? More? Will the uncontrollable urge to binge/purge/c&s like mad return, making me even more insane than I feel now?

Pretty difficult to speculate. But to feel this way forever? I can't do it.


There's that.

Cheers, to 129.6.

And love to my lovelies. Thank you all for your sincere support and genuine caring. I am so very fortunate to have friends like you in my arsenal against this shit. Thank you.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

BMI: 20.7. When will I see 19?

I can't remember if I told you this yet...I don't think I have. As of yesterday, around 2 PM, things are over between K and myself.

About that? I feel empty and blank and unaffected.

But I can't tell if it's real, or if it's my medication. It does that to me.

I'm so weak, my lovelies.

Ready for some contradiction? No? Well then, please, so avert your pretty little eyes.

Today, I am scared again, asking if it's worth it.

My fingers are freezing, my face is pale and blotchy, my lips tinged with bluish violet...not a pretty hue, either.

It's 72 degrees out.

I guess I'm just wondering if it's possible to do this, to BE I must be, as I am...and still be happy? I'm eloquence eludes me. I have no words, as my head is a swimming in this dizzy hazy dream that threatens to turn nightmarish at any moment.

If I am thin, and I finally find myself to be in control, and beautiful...but my body is constantly exhausted, weak, floundering, stumbling, ugly, really, for lack of nutrients... Will it have been worth it then?

I realize the question "Is it worth it?" comes up a lot in our minds, and within our circle here, and elsewhere. The immediate answer, without hesitation, is always ABSOLUTELY.

Because nothing...NO THING...means more than THIN. Right?

I hurt and feel faint constantly now. I am blank, apathetic, cannot find within me the lust for life for which I am known. I cannot lose this. The fact that I have come to this realization must mean that I do, in fact, value life over being thin.


And yet I continue.

If I am frail and fragile and fairy-like, finally, but find myself too fatigued to engage in the simplest of life's offerings when I get there, then what will it have been for? So that I, alone, by myself, could stare at the reflection in the mirror, smile a wry, disgustingly wan and ashen smile at the emaciated woman looking back at me, happy? Rejoice in my ... accomplishment?

I like to go hiking and camping and rock climbing. I like to go out with friends and get trashed and sing karaoke. I like to COOK! I like to EXERCISE, push my body to see how fast and far it can run, how much weight it can lift. I like to go horseback riding, and see how fast and far I can make my horse run, because it reminds me of my childhood and how it feels to fly and forget. I like to dance.

I don't like being dizzy all of the time. I don't like falling back to my chair when I stand because I nearly blacked out just now...but no, no, don't worry about me, I just got a little head rush, I'm totally fine. I don't like not being able to write a single line of moving poetry because my head is too full of emptiness.


Am sorry.

In more ways than I can say.

And I'm sure I'll be changed again by tomorrow.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010







it says to me.

I step off.



I want to scream and sigh and jump up and down all at the same time.

But instead...I stare, and smile. A huge, stupid, silly HAPPY smile.

I'm doing this shit. 600 calories a day. 500. Then 800. Then 750. And it hurts so much, and it scares me, and it's the most insane physical euphoria I've ever experienced.

And it IS worth it.

(insert really fast-talking rambly jumbly advertiser guy's voice giving fine print after a car commercial): PhantasmagoricalDelusion is currently endeavoring to land a patent on the inability to make up her mind AND a copyright on the state of being which will heretofore be called "ConstantChangingFuckingContradiction, And NOT GIVING A SHIT."

Here's a crappy pic from my crappy camera phone.

I love you, skinnies. Yes, all of you. Don't argue. We are thin. Somewhere, in the deepest, strongest, most brilliant parts of ourselves, where there is nothing but perfection waiting to be discovered, we are all thin.

Find it.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Still 131... Phew.

I'm back to 25 mg in the morning, in case you're wondering. We'll see how that goes. It's such a slippery slope, the one on which I find myself...

Who doesn't long to be utterly repulsed at every thought of eating and food and satiety, all day long, for days on end? Who among us would pass at a pill that offers complete control of mind, absence of desire and appetite, a more intense obsession with one's goals than one has ever experienced?

And yet...there's also Life to be had. Love, and a child who needs ME, because I am all she has in this world. I will not ever starve myself into a hospital because she needs me, and we will need each other forever. I will not let it get that far.

13 pounds to underweight. I will not let it get too much lower than that...

If I repeat it over and over and over, I think it might be closer to true, somehow.

Enough of the darkdepressingbullshit. :P

I'm happy today. I am. I'm giddy and flighty and energetic (despite my obvious deficiencies in vitamins, minerals, calories, etc.) and even though my skin has taken on that pale blotchiness it gets when I starve for a number of days, I feel GOOD. I'm excited. I feel a corner coming, a sharp bend up ahead, and I'm about to take this turn going 80, and totally ace it. It *couldpossiblymaybe* have a little tiny something to do with my lovely friend Dr. McAussieDreamGuyLitProfessor...


A lot.


I have that light about me, that glow, that people have the morning after they get laid for the first time in ages.

Except I didn't. He's just wonderful.

Ah, but am I mixed-up mess of jumbly confusion, or what?

Oh, and in answer to your lovely comments, ladies, yes, the profile picture is me, taken a few days ago. Looking at it now, though, I realized it's not all that good... Maybe I'll take another when I hit 125. :D I kind of liked the black and white one I posted a few posts ago? The bending-over-one from the back? My ribs looked nice (for once!) but my hips are just so goddamned wide...There's not much in the way of fixing that, is there?

Meh...I'm doing the notorious leg-jiggling trick to keep myself from peeing over I should probably go do that.

<3 you skinnies! Thank you so much for being so amazing!!!